


Seeing Double

by Clefaiiiry



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Bloodhound's Ambiguous Genitals, Canon Nonbinary Character, Decoy Fucking, Edging, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, Fingering, Never thought I'd tag that, Not directly referenced but Elliott Witt is trans, Oral Sex, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Subspace, Threesome - M/M/NB, Touchstarved Bloodhound, Trans Male Character, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 15:30:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18236789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clefaiiiry/pseuds/Clefaiiiry
Summary: Bloodhound gets fucked by Mirage's decoys.





	Seeing Double

“I dunno who’s prettier; you or me.”

“Elliott Witt, I’m going to kill you- mmh!” Hound bit their lip as the decoy behind them kissed up their throat. It chuckled like Elliott, a sound that made their heart skip a beat every time. It nuzzled closer, licking and nibbling at any inch of skin it could get to, its arms curling around their waist for support rather than restraint. If they zoned out completely, maybe they could pretend it was really him.

Or at least they could if the other would learn patience. The one in front of them, not impressed with the lack of attention it was getting, left a trail of bites along their inner thighs, harsh enough that they’d leave bruises in the morning. Hound shuddered, twisting their hands in the sheets as it continued its assault. This one was certainly _Mirage_ , cocky and demanding the spotlight, relentless despite feeling no pleasure of its own.

While the Fake Elliott wanted to undo them slowly, kiss them and love them until they were a shaking mess, Mirage wanted to tear them apart and hold them down, make them scream and beg until their voice was hoarse.

Hound wasn’t sure which they’d prefer.

That was a lie. They really wanted the man sat across the room in the old green armchair they mostly used as a place to toss dirty laundry. Tonight, it was a throne, fit for the smirking bastard who watched the performance before him.

Hound tore their gaze away from Mirage as it grew closer to their core and directed a glare at him.

“Are you really just going to sit back- gah, and watch?”

Elliott leaned back, lazily stroking his cock, propping his chin against his knuckles. “I dunno, Houndie, it’s a pretty good show.”

“You- aah!”

Mirage dragged its tongue across them while it held their thighs apart, wasting no time in getting to what it really wanted. Hound threw their head back and moaned, unsure whether to push forward or pull away.

Fake Elliott took their chin and kissed them, deep and passionate, making sure to leave no part of them ignored. Its other hand lingered on their stomach, giving a playful squeeze, then ventured up to play with their chest.

Hound only turned their head away to breathe, panting hard.

“Elliott,” they whined, “please-”

Fake Elliott only smiled and stole their lips once more, the hand at their chin cupping their cheek. It brushed their cheekbone, feather light, drawing out a whimper.

It was too much, their head already foggy with lust. They were slipping, losing themself in the waves of heat. Every inch of them buzzed, nerves on fire.

They knew they could stop this at any moment, they only had to say the word and Elliott would be on them in a moment, cuddling them close and whispering praise. But they wanted this, wanted to be used as a spectacle, to be worshipped and unwound entirely by a skillful tongue and gentle hands.

Maybe that was how Elliott had talked them into it.

They only realised how far they’d sunk when Mirage made a point of sucking them hard, slurping with such vulgarity that they had to cover their face.

“Oh, ah, shit- Elliott, please, don’t tease.”

Elliott pulled a face from his chair. “Whaddya mean, babe?”

“Please touch me,” they whimpered, jolting against Mirage’s tongue as it pushed further.

Elliott offered an innocent smile. “But, babe, I’m already touching you.”

Hound would have considered the many ways they knew how to kill a man, but Mirage’s tongue was a good distraction. They jerked their hips into its face, cursing and gasping as Fake Elliott propped its head on their shoulder to watch Mirage work.

They tried to look away, but Fake Elliott guided their gaze back with a firm hand on their chin. It smiled sweetly, sincerely, and trailed its free hand down their side, appreciating the firm muscle, making them jump as it found a ticklish spot. It pressed an apologetic kiss to their cheek, but the hand continued until it joined Mirage’s tongue, stroking them torturously slow.

“I can’t, please, ah-” Their voice dissolved as Fake Elliott picked up its speed, nibbling at their neck, grinding into their rear. Mirage left one hand on their thigh, digging its blunt nails into the firm muscle, and brought the other to grab a handful of their ass.

They were shaking and keening, yanking a hand from the sheets to grab the back of Mirage’s head and force it closer.

Then they both stopped.

Hound nearly screamed in frustration as they wriggled and strained against them. They only needed a _little bit more-_

They tried to finish themself off with their hand, but Fake Elliott tutted and held their arms at their sides, shaking its head in disapproval.

“Please, please, I need it, please, Elliott-”

But Elliott only smirked from his chair. His cock was leaking so much pre that they could see it dribbling down his length. They subconsciously licked their lips.

The decoys refused to budge until their breathing evened. Mirage leaned its head against their thigh, staring up at them like a starving dog. Its tongue lolled out and drew a long line across them, visibly shuddering as if it could taste them.

Hound’s back arched against Fake Elliott, tears beginning to prick their eyes. It shook in a quiet, rumbling chuckle and hugged them tightly, showering their face with little smooches.

Mirage prodded inside them with its fingers (when the hell did it have time to lube them?) and Hound let out an undignified squawk. Mirage stopped for a second, waiting to see if they had any protests, then continued.

They soon lost track of time, teased to the edge and back enough to leave them sobbing, their face a mess of tears and drool. Their chest heaved as they gasped and shook with every movement, scrambling for support against the chest behind them and the sheets below. They weren’t entirely certain how long it had been. They had been completely out of it since the second time they had been denied. Even Fake Elliott’s delicate kisses were too much as they burned with overstimulation.

They were so tired, so desperate, they just wanted release but the decoys didn’t seem capable of giving them what they wanted. Their throat was dry and raw from the symphony of sounds that continued to pour out.

They gathered enough strength to look up to Elliott and opened their mouth again,

“E-Elliott, oh, Elliott, please I can’t- I’ll do anything, please, just hold me. I need you so badly, Elliott-”

Then they flopped to the bed with a soft ‘ooft.’ The decoys had vanished, leaving them shaking and needy and _alone_. They rutted into the sheets like an animal in heat, chasing friction they couldn’t find.

They hadn’t realised Elliott had moved until he was looming above them, slipping his hand between their legs. Hound sobbed and clenched their thighs around him.

“Please, I can’t, let me cum, Elliott, please-”

“Hey, shush… I got you, I’m here,” he murmured, dotting kisses along their neck, down their back, taking his sweet time as they shook and whined.

“Elliott,” they searched for his hand, fumbling helplessly until he took it and squeezed for reassurance.

Elliott draped himself across them, chest to back, propping himself up as not to crush them. He leaned close, breath hot against their ear.

“Can I make love to you?”

If he had asked that before he’d left them to beg to his decoys for what felt like hours, they might have said yes. They’d let him bundle them up in his arms, take them apart, slow and sweet, ending with them so closely intertwined that they might merge into one.

But right now, they just seriously needed his cock.

“Fuck me,” they whimpered, too quiet, a prayer. They feared he hadn’t heard them, but he readjusted his position, took his cock, and pressed the tip against them.

Elliott pushed in without much resistance. Mirage’s efforts had left them loose and wet with lube and pre. They tensed, crying out as finally, _finally_ they had him. They babbled uselessly, too tired to meet his thrusts, free hand fisting the sheets weakly. He was so worked up, his hips moving in uneven desperate jolts. Hound loved it, they just needed _more_.

“You’re so good, I love you so much, Houndie, you’re taking me so well, holy shit, you feel amazing-”

Hound tried to hide their red face and embarrassing moans in the pillow, but Elliott kept them in place. They squirmed underneath him, letting out another sob. It was too hot, too wet, they couldn’t breathe but they were too high on the sensation to care. They needed him to move faster, they were so, so close, they wanted to _scream_ -

They came with a sharp gasp, toes curling, back arching, panting hard as they clutched his hand hard enough to hurt, tearing their head away to bury their forehead into the damp sheets.

Elliott finished soon after, pulling out to cum across their thighs, sweet talk spilling from his lips as he hunched over them, trying his best not to fall on them as he jerked himself raw.

They couldn’t move. Everything felt so stiff and heavy that they didn’t even want to try. The dull ache that throbbed across their tired muscles felt so wonderful, but they didn’t dare agitate it.

They were vaguely aware of Elliott wiping them off with his shirt and dragging the covers up. They gasped softly as he manoeuvred them into a more comfortable position, kissing them with all the reverence one might show their monarch, tangling their legs with his. He was talking, but their brain didn’t process a word. They just nuzzled into his warmth and let themself be safe.

 

* * *

 

 

“Two squads left, no time to be daydreaming,” Bangalore’s voice crackled over the comms.

Bloodhound pulled their knife from their last kill and emerged from the little hut into the harsh sunlight. They enjoyed Cascades as much as one could enjoy a deathmatch arena. There was enough cover and high ground that there was rarely a dull fight amongst the little wooden huts and fast running river.

Bloodhound re-joined their team at the riverbank below the Watchtower. The running water masked the sounds of their gear as Wraith scoped the horizon for movement.

“I see one,” she said, pinging the location.

The figure was heading down the slope towards them, walking at a leisurely pace, totally oblivious.

“Can you take the shot?” Bangalore asked. Wraith nodded.

“They’re running in a straight line. Not paying attention.”

The figure stopped at the bottom of the watch tower, crouching next to a death box, movements exact, as if programmed directly.

It was only then Bloodhound realised what it was and raised their hand.

“Don’t shoot,” they said, “it’s a hologram.”

Wraith grunted in acknowledgment. “So they’re nearby. Good to know.”

“Let’s reposition here, get the high ground,” Bangalore said.

Their squad mates headed to the zipline, not even sparing the decoy a second glance. Bloodhound tried to do the same, but they couldn’t help but spare a peek.

The decoy gave them a wicked grin, making a phone gesture and mouthing ‘call me.’ Bloodhound was thankful for their mask as their face went a wonderful shade of red. They shot it without thinking, the decoy vanished with a digital buzz.

“Bloodhound, what’s your status?” Bangalore said over the voice comms.

“Thought I saw something,” they said quickly, hopping on the zipline to catch up with their squad. She would not be convinced by that, but didn’t press any further.

When they got Elliott home that evening, he wasn’t going to know what hit him.

**Author's Note:**

> as always bloodhound's downstairs is left as ambiguous as possible but because i am a afab nb individual, it may come across more as one way or the other.  
> is mirage sucking their cock or eating them out? is elliott fucking their cunt or their ass? that's up to our dear audience to decide.
> 
> how does one fuck a decoy? hard light babyyy
> 
> tagging is important to me so if i've missed anything hmu
> 
> i'd rather get fucked by fake elliott tbh, i need some lovin' ;_;
> 
> big thanks to JaydenDSin for helping me proof this <3 inspired in part by this https://archiveofourown.org/works/18220583
> 
> also thank the discord for that last lil scene that idea had my dying


End file.
